


Proof

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-26
Updated: 2003-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-27 13:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12081621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: I didn't really like the ending in episode 307. I really wanted to see a B/J reunification, so I kind of changed it my way.





	Proof

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

I left Mikey alone on the top floor of Babylon, cruising the guys and smoking his cigar. Even if I tease him a little about it, I think Mikey will be a good father, at least a better one than me. Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult... 

I’m glad Mel and Linds asked him to be the father of their second child because I really feel having a child changes your perspective on life. Having Gus has certainly changed mine, although I’d sometimes like to pretend it hasn’t. That I’m still the only person I have to care about.

I think about Gus and how much I love that kid although I never thought I would. But I do - I loved him the minute I held him in my arms at the hospital. Suddenly, thinking about that night brings up memories of Justin and the fantastic night we shared. I don't let my mind wander too much thinking about him. Although the rational part of my brain knows that Justin's better off without me, the emotional part still craves for him, his touch, his smell...   
I know I've done a pretty good job hiding it but I really feel like shit without him. But the pleasure of seeing him happy, even if it isn't with me, even if it's with that fucking fiddler, gives me the strength to stay away from him.

But the moment I saw Justin at the diner I knew the fiddler had fucked everything up. I don't know exactly how but he fucked it up... and I feel really guilty because when I saw he was wearing the same ensemble from the day before, when I grasped the fact that he hadn't gone home to the fiddler last night it made me happy... I was relieved. Funny how a year ago I would have been relieved if he had just fucking stopped stalking me and now I'm relieved he's available again. But is he really? I’m not naïve enough to think that just because things weren’t perfect with the fiddler, he’ll come running back to me. 

Although I secretly wish he would.

Fuck, what have I let this kid do to me? 

I try to find Anita - maybe she can give me something that will make me stop thinking about him. Right now the only thing that could ease my turmoil is drugs: poppers, E, coke… anything that will make me forget for just a couple of hours. But she isn't anywhere in sight and the thought of going back to an empty loft is unbearable, so I settle for the next best thing - the backroom. 

Things are really wild in here. It's like orgy night. Everyone's fucking with everyone. I see a couple cruising me but I just walk by. I'm not tempted by the thought of a three-way.   
Tonight I just want to get my dick sucked so I can go to sleep. That’s another thing he seems to have stolen from me, my fucking ability to sleep. I look around for a guy that doesn't have anything in his mouth or ass and would be willing to suck me off. 

The sight of a blond haired kid makes my heart jump. Maybe I could use a fuck. If he stays on his stomach while I ride him, he'll pretty much look like Justin. Same height, same hair, pretty much the same clothes. I stop at his level to get a closer look at him. He's already fucking some guy but that's not a problem - in a few minutes he’ll be done. 

He suddenly jerks his head my way. And I recognize him. He couldn't look more like Justin, because it IS Justin. He’s so focused on fucking the guy beneath him that he doesn’t realize someone is staring at him.

I stand against the wall for support because the sight of him makes my legs weak. For a moment I'm pissed off that he's even here. He doesn't belong here; he deserves more than a quick fuck in the backroom of Babylon. But honestly, I'm not surprised. I've managed to turn him into a younger version of me, drowning his pain in sex just like I do, shutting out people who want to help him. That's not something I'm proud of; I certainly don't want him to become like me. I don't want him to be afraid to love and to be loved like I am, because he deserves to be happy, he deserves something I can't give him. I wish things were easier, wish I could just vocalize what I feel for him. Because I’m sure that is the only thing that still stands in our way. I can’t pretend he’s still that annoying kid stalking me because I know he isn’t; everyone knows he isn’t. If he’s been by my side, in my home for more than two years, it’s because I wanted him there. So why can’t I just tell him that. It’s not like I would be giving him some kind of control he doesn’t already have. 

I keep staring at him and finally our eyes meet. For a moment I see in his eyes he's sorry to be here in front of me, where I can see him, judge him. But I don't. Justin, I'll never judge you. I'll always be proud of you no matter what you do. 

He slows down the thrusting, probably waiting for me to move along. But I don't, I just lean a bit more against the wall, staring at him. My cock is getting harder just at the sight of him fucking someone who’s not even me. Could this be any more fucked up…

He finally gets it that I'm not going anywhere, that I'm staying here playing this really fucked up game, getting turned on by the sight of him fucking a trick. Even if these are not the perfect circumstances I’m happy to see him, to make sure he’s ok. He’s been avoiding me since he left with the fiddler; we haven’t had a chance to talk. Was the sex the only thing that kept us together, Justin? Is that why now that you’re getting it elsewhere, you can’t find a fucking minute to talk with me?

I’m still staring; I can’t seem to take off my eyes of him. I just stand there like a prick while the bulge in my jeans grows bigger as he stares back at me. It turns him on also, I can see it. His eyes are full of lust and he's grinning at me, giving me a small smile. He hasn’t been smiling much lately; it’s been a while since I’ve seen his Sunshine smile. And I know it’s a terrible thing to say but I’m glad he isn’t smiling with the fiddler, as if those Sunshine smiles were my personal privilege. He's not even looking at the guy anymore, just staring in my eyes while he thrusts deeper, harder into the trick’s ass. 

A guy comes from I don't know where and starts to lean in to kiss me. I just push him down towards my cock. See, Justin, even though we're not together anymore, I still follow your fucking rules. Maybe it’s a way to convince me that this is not the end between us, that we still stand a chance. Do we, Sunshine? Do we still stand a chance?

As the naked man's lips meet my dick and his tongue starts trailing down my shaft, I look at Justin, wondering if he has a clue as to all these feelings I have for him buried deep down inside me. We're both fucking other guys but we're still staring at each other like we are alone in the loft, like his lips are worshiping my dick, like his cock is thrusting deep into my ass.   
I smile at the irony of the situation. This is so fucked up, we are so fucked up... 

Being apart was ok when he spent his time with the fiddler and away from Babylon and Woody's, but is this how it's going to be now? I'm not sure I can handle seeing him in the backroom fucking other guys, reminding me just how stupid I was to let him slip away. The fucking around was ok when we were doing it together like at the baths, because I knew that in the end, no matter what, it would just be him and me. But seeing him fuck this guy now that we’re no longer together, I think I finally understand what he felt at the Rage party when he found me fucking Rage. For a moment, I let my eyes slip away from his and wander back to the trick under me, thinking that maybe this is too much for me to handle, but the sight of a guy that is not Justin sucking my dick feels even worse. 

I turn my head back towards him a little and he's still staring at me. I know he's feeling the same, that he's dying to just tell the guys to fuck off and to slide his dick into me, to feel the warmth of our bodies finally reunited, but neither of us makes a move. He’s had enough of the chasing and if I want him back I’m going to have to make the first move, but for his sake I won’t. 

As the guy sucking me speeds up the rhythm of his mouth on my cock, my breathing gets louder, my heart beats faster. I'm close and by the look of Justin's face so is he. I know him by heart, the look he has when he's close, the sounds he makes when he comes. We look at each other one last time and I slightly nod at him, allowing the release he’s been longing for all night. 

He moans loudly as his orgasm floods through his body and I feel … jealousy. Yes, I 'm jealous that I'm not the one making him come. But maybe in a way I am...I smile at the sight of his flushed face and his satiated expression. I love watching him come. He goes completely wild and lets out moans and words I’m sure he’s not even aware of. The little cries he releases trigger my own orgasm and I shoot my load into the guys mouth, still staring into Justin's eyes. 

I push the guy away, letting him know he's not getting anything more from me tonight and I lean against the wall to catch my breath. When I turn my head to the left, Justin, who also got rid of his trick, is leaning against the wall, staring at me, his lips slightly parted. The sight of his blue eyes staring at me is enough to make my dick twitch. I involuntarly glance down at my crotch as I feel my dick getting harder. He notices my glance and grins. His smile makes my heart melt and my crotch ache, and within seconds I'm ready for another round. But this time not with another trick, with him... 

I know he's thinking the same, but I'm waiting for him to make the first move. I want to be sure he wants this, that he's not just teasing me. I silently beg him to come to me, to understand how much I want him, how much I need him. And he does... he pushes the plastic curtain aside and walks up to me. We stare at each other for a few seconds waiting for the other one to say something. But he knows that words just won't work now and I’m relieved because, honestly, I don’t think I’m in a position to produce a coherent sentence right now.

He uses his weight to pin me against the wall, softly stroking my hair, appreciating the feeling of my body pushing back against his. He's pinning me so hard against the wall I can hardly breathe. But feeling his slender body trapping me against the wall is just making my cock harder, it’s just making me want him more. Suddenly I get tired of being so close to him and yet not touching him so I grab the back of his neck and kiss him.

Oh my god…

I've missed this so much, the feel of his tongue, of his soft fleshy lips ravishing my mouth. I feel my legs weaken under his touch, but he's here supporting me just as he always has been. We both came a few minutes ago but we’re both harder than ever, exploring each other's body with our fingers, our lips struggling to find flesh under the layers of clothing . He undoes the buttons of my jeans and seems surprised to find a pair of underwear. I’ve started wearing underwear again, I wonder if that means anything… well, I have been having a lot less sex.   
His hand slides into my briefs and I yelp like a fucking 14 year old…

I feel his fingers torturing my hole and his hard dick pressing against my stomach. I can't stand the teasing anymore. It’s been too long since I’ve felt his hands on my body, his mouth all over me. We’ll take it slowly later. Right now I just want to feel him, to feel he’s back...  
I've been thinking about this from the minute I walked in the backroom and saw him sliding his dick into that guy's ass, wishing he was doing it to me. I almost cum from thinking about it. But just a few more minutes and his dick will be in my ass. I whisper in his ear "Fuck me".

Stunned, he looks at me. I’ve only let him fuck me a couple of times and he knows I'd usually never let him (or anyone) fuck me in a backroom, but right now the only thing I can think about is his big wide cock pushing into my tight ass. I turn around so that I'm facing the wall and I feel him grab a condom from his pocket. He quickly rolls it onto his cock and while his left hand is pinning me against the wall, his right hand slowly guides his dick into my ass. He’s just about to push it inside me when he suddenly backs off.

Oh no, Sunshine, don’t do this to me, don’t leave me like this.

But he’s not leaving, just fumbling in his pocket. He finally finds what he was looking for - lube. I let out a sigh of relief. I was kind of dreading the rough feel of his unlubed dick but as usual he knows just what I need. He smears the cold liquid on his fingers and rubs them against my hole, letting me get used to the cold sensation. He slips in a finger, then a second and starts scissoring them to stretch me out. I know he’s afraid of hurting me, but the pain is part of it, Sunshine. Isn’t that what I told you the first night at the loft? I push back against him, wanting so much more than his fingers inside me.

“Justin, fuck me, please.”

I know I’m begging, something I usually don’t do, but tonight things feel different - I’m different, I’m actually enjoying submitting to him. My hips buck against him and he steadies me with his hands on my side. “Easy,” he murmurs. He has no idea how much my entire body is screaming for him at this instant, or he wouldn’t be asking me to calm down. He hears my silent plea and suddenly I feel the pressure of his fingers disappear, replaced by the pressure of his cock. I try to relax as I feel his wide member position itself at my hole. 

Justin isn’t meant to be a bottom, he has the most perfect cock - wide and long and it curves just the right way. But again he also has the most perfect ass. That’s why he’s really special. Most guys have either a great ass or a great cock. He has both …lucky bastard. That’s probably why he’s the only one allowed to fuck me, because he’s special…and not just in bed. Who am I trying to fool?

I let out a little cry of pain as he finally pushes his cock in a few inches. I'm not really that used to being fucked and for some reason I’m nervous. He kisses the nape of my neck and strokes my back under my shirt, trying to relax me. I know he can't stand the idea of hurting me but it’s the good sort of pain. I know he understands.

He just lets his cock sit at the entry to my hole for a couple of minutes, letting it relax and widen to take him in. After a few minutes of him rubbing against my opening I’m almost begging for him to fuck me more, but instead I just buck my hips at his dick, making him understand I want all of him inside me. He gives little slow thrusts, gently stretching me and quickly the pain turns into pleasure. ..unbelievable pleasure. I’m nearly screaming as his dick buries itself deeper inside me. I think it’s never been so good, even with him. Maybe it’s because we haven’t been together for a while. I don’t know... but I swear his dick stirring inside my ass is sending me to another galaxy.

My loud moans win us the attention of the guys fucking next to us. A little gathering forms around us when they realize Brian Kinney is the one bottoming, taking it up the ass. I don't even care if it tarnishes my reputation. For the moment, the only thing I can think about is the incredible feeling of his dick pushing further and further into me with every thrust. I feel so close to him - his dick buried deep in my ass, his heart pounding against my back, his uneven breathing against my neck. I feel the unexplainable need to vocalize what I’m feeling, how bad I’ve missed him 

“Justin?” I gasp.

Just to hear me utter his name makes his cock jerk and I’m glad he isn’t immune to me, that I can still turn him on, just as he can still drive me wild.

“Yes, Brian?”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

I want to tell him so much more. How the loft, how my life is empty without him; how I can’t even sleep since he’s gone; how I’ve been dying to just knock on Ethan’s door and beg him to come home. But this isn’t the time or the moment, so I just concentrate on what Justin's doing to me, on the pleasure he's giving me. 

Our screwing session has turned into a show and everyone in the backroom is staring at us or more precisely at Justin: the guy who got to fuck Brian Kinney. I know he's turned on by all these men imagining they were him, slamming their dick into my tight hole, a sacred place that so few people have been given access to. By making this public I'm showing everyone how much he means to me, how far I'm willing to go for him.

He thrusts one last time into me, and as usual he's got a perfect timing; we’re both on the edge of coming at the exact same second. He’s trying so hard not to scream .... he usually screams out my name when he’s about to come. I know he’s holding back because we’re in public but tonight I need to hear it.

“Say it,” I growl.

“What?”

“Say it. I know you want to. Please, just say it,” I pant.

The words flood out of his mouth and the sound of him screaming “Brian” at the top of his lungs over and over unleashes the orgasm that I was holding on to. I try to grip something as the spasms of my orgasm make my entire body shake and tremble, but there's nothing to hold on to. Justin, noticing my struggle, takes my fingers and entwines them with his own, allowing me to lean back onto him.

Contractions flood through my body, and I squeeze my hole around his dick. My ass tries to force his dick out of me, but he just rides the spasms, pushing harder against my prostate, making my orgasm even deeper. The contractions of my hole around his dick trigger his own release. He yells my name over and over as he cums in my ass, where he always should be, where he never should have left, and collapses on top of me. He stays a few minutes still inside me, and when finally his dick slips out, the void, the loss, the emptiness is unbearable.

I'm not finished with him, not for tonight, not for ever. I never will be. I need him more than I‘ve ever needed anyone. This can’t be it. I am so sick of staying away from him. How can this be wrong when it feels so right. I turn around cup his face and ask him "Come home." 

A smile spreads on his face, not the shy smile he gave me earlier but a real Sunshine smile, the one he does when he’s really happy. I know he understood what I meant, come home with me tonight, but also come back to our home, to my life. He knows I'm asking him to move back in with me. 

He simply answers “Yes.”

I'm so glad that for once he's stopped doubting, stopped asking questions. He finally understands that for me actions mean more than words. That even if I can't say it, what I've just let him do in front of the entire backroom of Babylon, what I’ve asked him is proof that I love him.


End file.
